On Bad Days She Reads Shakespeare
by Abellen
Summary: All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely actors. As Ingrid and Fillmore face their last year at X can they face the challenges that lie ahead? Will they grow closer together, or further apart?
1. Prologue to a Play

_Author's Note: Just a quick note to say that this is predominantly a romance fiction. It's not got huge amounts of plot, and every chapter is almost a story in its own right. It follows Fillmore and Ingrid through their final year of X MiddleSchool, and may have a somewhat Shakespearean theme to it. Not always, but sometimes._

_It's NOT related to "Shattered" in any way. It's just a bit of fun. It's been a while since I've watched Fillmore, but I'll try to keep everyone as in character as possible. If any facts are wrong then I can only apologise. I'm also British, so 'single speech marks' are normal for me._

_ Please see my profile if you want more information. Updates will be infrequent, but long. Feedback, as always, is loved, but no flames please. :)_

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Prologue to a Play

"_And all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." William Shakespeare: As You Like It_

The morning sun was climbing through the clear blue sky, warming the sidewalk beneath the soles of my trainers as I walked towards X middle school. It was the last day before school was out for the summer, and I could almost taste the freedom. The empty months stretched ahead of me unblemished by education, and I felt a strange jolt when I realized that next time I started classes again it would be my last year of middle school.

My gut twisted sharply at the thought and I kicked a can along in front of me, scowling as the blissful thought of an endless summer faded away. Just one more year. After that - junior high school. It wasn't the thought of that itself that turned a good mood bad; it was the fact that I'd be leaving the Safety Patrol behind.

I adjusted the orange sash absently and looked up as I approached the familiar squat building of the school. Before the Safety Patrol I'd been on the wrong side of the law. Cornelius Fillmore: a two-bit delinquent going nowhere fast. I'd turned things around, but I knew I hadn't done it alone. Partners and friends had helped me to get where I was, and when things got tough one partner in particular kept me grounded.

I smiled when I saw Ingrid Third leaning against the stop sign, her pale arms crossed and her green eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Ingrid was my partner in fighting crime and a genius, literally. Her photographic memory meant that there was nothing beyond the grasp of her mental abilities, and even if she hadn't been gifted with the rare skill she would still be the brightest kid in school.

She was practically a prodigy. A lot of kids resented her for that, but I knew Ingrid was not some stuck-up smart girl, too good for us lowly beings of an average IQ. Sure, she was prickly and defensive, but once you got passed that she was the best friend I could have. I wouldn't trust anyone else to watch my back.

She glanced at her watch pointedly as I approached, before shaking her head and giving a small lopsided grin. 'You're late.'

I glanced at the time and groaned in disbelief. 'By two minutes, Ingrid, and not for class.'

'The meeting with Vallejo starts in fifteen minutes,' she warned me, her smile widening as I frowned in thought.

'Wait. Yesterday you said that the meeting was at seven thirty, which is only five minutes from now.'

'Fillmore, I knew you'd be late.'

'You lied to me?' I asked in mock outrage. 'Dawg, Ingrid. I'm hurt!

My partner laughed softly. 'Oh Fillmore, I'm sorry.' Her voice was soft and low, and her hand brushed quickly on my arm in apology. I just grinned and shook my head as she walked up the steps and into the air-conditioned corridors of X Middle School.

Our footsteps echoed in perfect unison as we made our way to the Safety Patrol office. For once the halls were almost empty. Most students were too busy enjoying the sunshine to bother getting to school so early. They were either still at home preparing for the day, or lying on the scraps of grass at the front of the school, sunbathing. Some of the more studious were studying for the exams that littered the day ahead, but most kids were too busy talking to their friends or eating a lazy breakfast to hit the books.

The office of the Safety Patrol was already bustling. Karen Tehama sat at her desk typing up a hasty report while Anza read over her shoulder, murmuring advice about their latest case. Vallejo had a text book open on his desk and was staring at the pages with a look of horror.

Danny was muttering to himself and scribbling his way through some science homework. Trust Danny to leave that kind of thing to the last minute.

'Ingrid, your boyfriend dropped by,' Anza called out, a smile dancing on his lips as Ingrid's back stiffened and her eyes narrowed. 'He wanted to say thank you for last night.'

I raised an eyebrow in my partner's direction, feeling my heart sink as the pleasure of her company faded. It had been like this for nearly two weeks, ever since she'd started helping an older boy called Marcus with his Calculus. She said they were just friends, but even I wasn't so sure any more.

For a moment I thought Ingrid would deny it again, the same as always, but her icy cool demeanor didn't crack. 'Thank you, Anza.'

This time even Tehama looked up from what she was doing. 'What, no protests?' she asked incredulously, hitting the print button.

'There's no point,' Ingrid sighed. 'Every time I try to tell you the truth you all just roll your eyes. I'll save my breath.' Ingrid poured herself a hot drink and blew on the liquid to cool it before taking a luxurious sip. Her lips left a dark lipstick mark on the rim, but she either didn't notice or didn't care.

'Ingrid, you know we're just teasing you.' Karen looked at her and smiled. 'Although I think you and Mark go well together.'

'It's Marcus, Karen,' Ingrid murmured, flicking on her computer and sitting her chair.

'Well, whatever his name is, he left you a note. It's by your pen pot.'

I sat behind my own beat-up desk and tried to sort through the landslide of paperwork that seemed to have gathered on its surface. After weeks of chasing a ring of forgery artists the crime scene at X had finally fallen quiet, giving us a chance to catch up on reports before the office closed for the summer.

I tried to read over one of the Principal's latest memos, but found that after no more than a few words my mind had wandered. Anza had been teasing Ingrid about Marcus for days. In the beginning she'd denied everything they threw at her, but as time went on her protests became less frequent. Maybe it was because she knew she couldn't convince Anza about the truth, but I'd noticed a change in my partner, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

She smiled more, and seemed to be having a bit more difficulty concentrating than usual. Girls and their behavior were a mystery to me, but I couldn't help but suspect that there was more to her and Marcus than she was letting on. I looked over at her and frowned to myself. Her chin was resting on her hand, but it didn't hide the smile on her lips or the slight flush in her pale cheeks as her eyes skimmed over the note.

If I didn't know better I would have thought that my unshakeable partner had fallen, and fallen hard.

I scowled at the report in front of me, giving the monochrome words the full force of my annoyance. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Don't get me wrong, I wanted Ingrid to be happy - but with Marcus? He was such a - I failed to think of any polite words to describe him. He just wasn't right for her. A blind man could see that, but obviously Ingrid hadn't worked it out yet.

Some small, rational part of my mind was trying to tell me that the smiles and blushes could be nothing. Perhaps just a crush, or something totally unrelated. Whatever it was I couldn't stop trying to second guess the reasons. Why did it bother me so much that she was happy?

I looked up from the report again and saw that both Anza and Tehama were casting glances in Ingrid's direction, their curiosity roused by the note. Whatever plans were running through their minds were cut short when Vallejo opened his office door and called everyone's attention back to business.

'Now look,' he said, his dark eyes fierce as he surveyed each one of us. 'I know that everyone's going to be studying, or too busy thinking about vacations to get much work done. I'm not going to ask much, but we've got to get those reports sorted out before school ends. When the bell goes this afternoon you won't be setting foot in this office for months. Not even if you want to. All paperwork has got to be finished by then. With any luck no new cases will come up, so we can end school in peace for once. Any questions?'

When no one said anything he vanished into his office again, returning to whatever studying he'd been doing. I watched for a moment as he wiped a hand across his forehead, sweating despite the air con. I'd known Vallejo a while, and I could see the stress wearing him down.

The Safety Patrol had become divided into two factions. There were the pros, like me and Ingrid. We worked in perfect harmony, and we knew the ins and outs of solving crime in the school. Then there were the new officers, the starch barely worn out of their sashes. They'd been on the job since the Fall, and they were learning, but the process was slow. In another year us pros would be moving on, leaving a whole new set to take our place, including a new Junior Commissioner.

If Vallejo was this stressed now I didn't want to think about what next year would be like.

Pushing my thoughts aside I got down to work, focusing everything I had on the reports at my desk. Gradually the things that needed to be done diminished. I'd just signed the last document when Ingrid put a small sheaf of papers in front of me.

'Just sign it, Fillmore,' she said with a smile when I pulled a face at the densely typed page.

'What is it?'

'The Madison report.'

I scribbled my signature where she'd left a space, knowing that Ingrid would have done a top grade job. The Madison case had the pair of us running around for days, and it was only a stroke of coincidence that we caught the perp. That was not a fact that either Ingrid or I were proud of. No doubt she'd have used her usual skill to make it seem like we'd done as good a job as ever.

'Are you ready for the science exam this afternoon?' she asked absently, reading through the last paragraph again before putting the report in my "Out" tray.

'As ready as I'll ever be. Have you brought a book to read when you finish early, or are you going to leave?'

'I'll probably go. I think I upset other people when I sit in an exam room and do nothing,' she replied with a grin before looking at the clock. 'You ready for class?'

I nodded in agreement and we said our good-byes to everyone else before heading towards English class. The corridors were packed with people now, some talking exuberantly while others sat in quiet corners, whispering their study notes to themselves over and over.

'That'll be us next year,' Ingrid said quietly, looking at a group of girls desperately trying not to panic as they waited for their exams to start.

'I can't wait,' I grumbled sarcastically, feeling the anxiety and the stress in the air. It was contagious, and my already bad mood got worse when I noticed someone waving at us. I tried not to scowl in his direction as I said, 'Ingrid, Marcus wants to talk to you. I'll meet you in class.'

'Okay, Fillmore.' Ingrid cast me a funny look, and I realized too late that she was beginning to notice my behavior. I braced myself for questions that I couldn't answer, but instead she smiled and said, 'I won't be long.'

I told myself to turn away, that whatever Ingrid and Marcus were up to was none of my business, but something had me locked in place. Marcus said something I couldn't hear and rubbed his hand softly along her bare arm. It was not the gesture of a friend to a friend. It was too intimate for that, and I felt the feeling that had been plaguing me since she'd got the note came back full force. Now I knew why it bothered me so much.

I was jealous.

I turned away sharply and shook my head to myself, heading towards class as fast as I could. This could not be happening to me. Ingrid was my friend, nothing more, but that didn't change the fact that I was jealous of Marcus, and it shook me up bad.

I'd have to be dead not to notice Ingrid's more attractive qualities, but we were just friends. We always had been.

I sighed as I took my seat and stared vacantly at the chalkboard as other students filed in around me. Their vacant chatter seemed distant and unintelligible as I sat there, trying to work out what had changed, and when.

Finally I gave up and sat back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt my lips curve into a mirthless smile as I thought about my situation., trying to reassure myself that I was just worried that a relationship with Marcus would affect Ingrid and me. If she was going out with him then the harmless comments we shared would stop, and so would the accidental touches. Flirting with Ingrid was nothing new. It was a kind of game about how far we could push the limits with each other. About who could make who blush first.

I scowled again. It seemed that where Ingrid was concerned Marcus won that game hands down. All she had to do was see him and a soft pink crept into her cheeks.

'Fillmore, are you all right?' Ingrid's voice startled me, but I covered up my surprise as she slipped into the seat next to me an unpacked her books. 'You look upset.'

'I'm fine,' I said curtly, trying to stop her pursuing the subject. 'Just worried about exams.'

I risked a glance in her direction and almost grinned when I saw the expression on her face. It was one of complete disbelief. One eyebrow was raised questioningly, and her eyes were watching my face for any clues in my expression.

'Okay,' she finally replied. 'Well, when you feel like telling me what's _really_ wrong, I'm right here.'

We sat in silence as the teacher came in and began to talk to us about the literature of revolutionary America. Ingrid had her head propped on her hand and was chewing her lip in thought as she listened to what the teacher was saying. She pushed her fringe out of her eyes and rubbed at her forehead, as though trying to stroke away a headache at her temple.

Suddenly she looked across at me, and I realised I was staring. With an apologetic grin I dropped my eyes to her desk, and froze. I could see a small bit of paper poking out from between the pages of one of her books and in a flash I knew it was the one from Marcus. I recognized the untidy scrawl, although I couldn't make out the words.

For a minute the temptation to snatch it from its hiding place and read it was almost overwhelming. I grappled with myself for a minute before waiting for the teacher to turn her back. When I got the chance I reached out and tucked it back into the pages, removing it from temptation. Ingrid noticed the motion and raised her eyebrow in question, leaning closer to hear my whispered warning.

'Anza and Tehama would do anything to get their hands on that. Be careful with it.'

Ingrid smiled her thanks and nodded, leaning back just as the teacher turned around and continued to lecture us. For the rest of the lesson I concentrated on the underlying themes of liberty and freedom to be found in American literature, falling into a protective daze as the teacher's words washed over me.

When the bell finally rang I grimaced, knowing that my science exam was only a couple of hours away. They didn't bother me as much as other people. Danny had a nervous breakdown at the tiniest test, while Anza went around shouting at everyone. Tehama was a quiet study, but had been known to cry when things got too much. There was only one person in the office that was cooler about exams than me, and Ingrid didn't really count.

'Fillmore, I'm just going to see how Marcus' math exam went. Can you take my stuff back to the office?'

I struggled to hide a grimace as I took her satchel from her. 'Sure, don't be long. We've still got word to do.' I smiled despite myself as Ingrid pulled a face before making her way through the crowded corridors. Watching her go I couldn't help admire the gentle swing of her hips. She was graceful, although she did everything in her power to hide it. It was hard to look elegant in boots with their laces trailing, but she managed it somehow.

I was almost at the Safety Patrol office door when Anza came hurrying up to me, Tehama just behind him. 'Fillmore, where's Ingrid?'

'With Marcus, why?'

Anza grinned and Tehama raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'I don't care what she says, something is going on between those two,' Tehama stated, a smile tugging at her lips.

'Actually, Fillmore, it's you we wanted to talk to. Ingrid tells you everything. You've got to know more about this whole Marcus thing than we do,' Anza said confidently.

I sighed to myself. There was nothing worse than a Safety Patrol officer with no crimes to solve. All the time and effort usually spent in interrogation and puzzle solving had nothing to do. Tehama was a terrible gossip, and even Vallejo seemed to know more about what was going on in the school than Folsom.

'I don't know any more than you two. I've got suspicions, but that's it.'

'Fillmore! That can't be true. You're her best friend!' Tehama shook her head in disbelief before her eyes fell on the bag in my hand. 'Wait a minute. The note's not on her desk, so it's probably in her bag. Perfect!'

'No. There's no way I'm going to let you look in her bag,' I said firmly, opening the office door and putting it down under my desk. 'Tehama, it's none of our business. So what if she's dating Marcus? For all we know she's telling the truth and they're just friends.' I tried to keep the doubt out of my voice, but Tehama rolled her eyes.

'Just friends? Friends don't behave the way those two do.' She sighed before giving a shrug. 'Fine, Fillmore, be like that, but you can't expect me to believe that the idea of Ingrid hooked up with someone doesn't bother you.'

I sat at my desk and flicked my computer on, only looking up when Anza perched on the corner. His expression was grim, and he stared into space for a moment before speaking. 'I know you think we're just being nosy about Ingrid's private life, and maybe we are, but I've asked around about Marcus. He's not exactly a good boy scout, if you know what I mean. He's got a bit of a bad reputation. I just want to make sure that Ingrid knows what she's getting in to.'

'What kind of reputation?' I asked, feeling my heart sink uncomfortably.

'A bit of a Casanova,' Tehama answered. 'He's left a lot of girls hanging, and two-timed a lot more. There's some rumors that he can be a bit rough, too, although that might be exaggerated.' She sighed and rubbed her hands together nervously. 'Fillmore, you know her best. You can warn her, and she'll listen to you.'

'She'll think I'm interfering. Besides I don't know her that well. I don't know her favorite color or anything like that.'

Tehama snorted and even Danny looked up from his work with a grin. 'That's not a sign of how well you know someone. It's knowing their habits and routines, and it's knowing how to make them smile again. I mean, come on, Fillmore. You know better than any of us when she's really down, and what will cheer her up.

'That's easy,' I replied dismissively.

'How then?' Anza asked. 'I can never tell until she gives me the "ice queen" glare.'

I shrugged and stood up, going over to her desk and opening the drawer. Inside was a thick book, bound in leather. The pages were very thin, like the bible. Ingrid turned to a different kind of book for solace. 'On bad days she reads Shakespeare. If she's got her nose stuck in the pages of this then you know she's going to be in a bad mood. The same way you know if Tehama's eating Hershey's she'll bite your head off.'

Around him his friends looked at him in amazement, and only Danny broke the silence. 'And you think you don't know her any better than the rest of us? If you ask me you and Ingrid have got the tightest friendship of anyone here.'

I put the book back carefully and shut the drawer, before nodding in reluctant agreement. 'All right, I'll tell her some when today. Right now I've got to study.'

Twenty minutes later and the office had settled into a semblance of quiet. Anza and Tehama were whispering enthusiastically about their vacation plans, unable to concentrate on their work. Danny would join in now and again, and I was clock-watching.

Ingrid should have been back by now, and Anza's warning about Marcus was laying heavy on my conscience. My partner was a smart girl, but sometimes she had difficulty seeing the evidence that was right in front of her. I knew she had the sense to think things through. It's not like she was the kind of person to let her heart over-rule her logic, but I was still worried.

I was just debating whether to go and look for her when she walked through the door, a book open in her hands. 'Sorry I took so long,' she said quietly, looking up at me for a moment. 'I needed to get this out of the library, and I was going past so I thought I'd do it now, rather than after school.'

She took her bag from under my desk wordlessly and reached into it for a pen before perching on my desk and continuing to read.

I noticed Anza making "tell her" gestures and shook me head imperceptibly, trying to make him understand that now was a bad time. Tehama broke the quiet with a sigh as she stretched in her chair. Seamlessly she continued with her previous conversation. 'Hey Ingrid, are you going away this summer?'

'Hmmm? Oh, yeah. My family and I are going to New York for a while, and I might be going to California for a couple of weeks.'

'Seeing family?' I asked absently as I tried to memorize the periodic table.

'No, if I do end up going it'll be with a friend.'

There was something about the way she said it that made me go tense, and I saw Karen frown as she reached the same conclusion. Her eyes flashed with something like disbelief, and she narrowed her eyes at Ingrid.

'Marcus?' she asked, her tone completely innocent.

'Mm-hmm.' Ingrid didn't lift her eyes from the pages of the advanced Physics book, so she didn't see Anza and Karen exchange a glance, nor did she see the frown on my face deepen, which was just as well. There was no doubt that Ingrid and Marcus were an item. My frail excuses for her behavior melted away, useless against the fact that she was going away with him for the summer.

Before I could dwell on it any further Danny's sound of alarm made us realize that the exam started in a few minutes. In a flutter of anxiety and panic the office emptied out, leaving Ingrid and I to lock up. The keys jangled in the lock as Ingrid turned the keys swiftly. The lock clunked into place heavily and she stood back with a sigh.

I tried desperately to find the right words to warn her, but they all seemed to sound too stupid, or too jealous. I wanted to tell her that he was all wrong for her, but I didn't have the evidence. I wanted to say I was worried, but didn't want to leave myself vulnerable like that.

In the end I said nothing and followed her along the corridor, my trainers squeaking loudly in the quiet. Just before we went into the exam room she nudged me to get my attention and smiled. 'Good luck, Fillmore.'

'You too, although I doubt you'll need it.'

'Hey, you never know.'

I paused for a moment, grabbing her arm to stop her walking into the exam room. 'Hey, Ingrid, can you hang around until the exam's over? I need to talk to you after school.'

She frowned, puzzled by my request but nodded anyway. 'Of course. I'll see you after.'

As soon as I took my seat time seemed to fly. The minutes slipped past quickly as the room was filled with the whispering sound of pen on paper. I didn't even notice Ingrid leave as I worked my way through the questions, reaching the end of the test with only five minutes to spare.

When the teacher finally released us there was a palpable sense of relief. People were talking, laughing and cheering the joy of a long summer break. The thrill of freedom was like electricity in the air, but it faded rapidly when I noticed Ingrid waiting for me and remembered my promise to Anza.

She held out my bag as I approached and I took it, shoving my pens away gratefully and falling into step alongside her. I was half expecting Marcus to interrupt us, but there was no sign of him and I took a deep breath as I tried to find the right words to say.

'Just say it,' Ingrid advised, hugging a book to her chest like a shield. 'Whatever it is, just spit it out.'

'It's about Marcus.'

She blew out a stream of breath and shook her head, her voice full of disappointment. 'Not you too, Fillmore.'

'Look,' I said hastily, trying to get her to listen to me. 'I don't care if you're dating or just friends or what. I think I know that you're more than just friends, but that's not what I want to say.'

'Are you telling me Karen and Anza haven't demanded that you find out one way or another?' she asked in disbelief.

'They did ask, but I said no.' I breathed a sigh of relief when her icy gaze softened a little 'I just want to give you a heads up. Marcus doesn't exactly have a shining reputation. I want you to be careful - I don't want you to get hurt.'

'Fillmore, I'm always careful. You know me well enough by now. Don't you think I've found out about his reputation on my own?' Ingrid asked, pursing her lips.

'So you're going out with him in the full knowledge that he'll probably cheat on you?' I asked in confusion, shaking my head in disbelief.

Her cool hand touched my arm, making me look up at her. Her green eyes were honest, without a trace of a lie. Her words were gentle, but serious. 'It's my choice , Fillmore. Whether I go out with him or not, whether we're more than just friends or not; it's my choice.'

'I know that. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you might be getting in to.' I forced a smile onto my lips before looking up at the stop sign. This was where we always went in our separate directions home. With a resigned sigh I dropped the subject. 'Whatever you do, have a good time, okay?'

'You too,' Ingrid said with a sad smile. 'If you get bored of cartoon marathons call me.'

'I will. Bye, Ingrid. Have a good summer.'

She waved good-bye before turning away and wandering off towards home. I watched her go for a moment before putting my headphones in my ears and turning the volume up. Maybe the music would wash away the nagging sense of uncertainty I felt, or drown out my thoughts that seemed to revolve around Ingrid far more than they should.

Either way I had months to forget about her and Marcus, and to lose the gnawing painful ache of jealousy that had come out of nowhere.

I tried to tell myself that at the start of term things would be back to the way they were. Ingrid and I would just be partners, and just good friends. That was all.

I didn't believe a word.

**End.**


	2. Act I: Midsummer Night's Dream

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviews so far. Enjoy the next Act. It's from Ingrid's point of view, and takes place in the summer vacation._

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_**On Bad Days She Reads Shakespeare**

Act I: A Midsummer Night's Dream

_"The course of true love never did run smooth." William Shakespeare - A Midsummer Night's Dream  
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The morning sunlight streamed through my window, warming my bedroom with its rays. I groaned quietly to myself, trying to hide my eyes and linger for a moment longer in my dreams. Finally reality forced itself in, and I blinked once or twice, sighing regretfully as the dawn called to me. I had to be one of the few teenagers who'd even consider getting up this early in the morning. Maybe it was a curse of genius or something.

Stumbling out of bed I faced my reflection in the mirror, wrinkling my nose as a litany of criticisms ran through my mind. I was too pale. More obvious though were the shadows under my eyes. I smiled ruefully: it served me right for staying up late reading again.

I picked up my copy of Shakespeare from where it had fallen from my sleepy grasp and carefully marked the page. My family and I had returned from New York just a few days ago. Now the boredom was making me restless and turning my mood dark and introspective. Reading was an old escape, something I'd done from a very young age and enjoyed immensely. Now I turned to my old favorites to put a smile on my face when reality couldn't do the trick.

I looked down at the baggy t-shirt I always wore to bed; one of my Dad's that came down to my knees, and shrugged. It's not like there was going to be anyone downstairs except my family, and somehow I doubted Mom and Dad would be awake yet.

I crept downstairs, avoiding the creaky stair with practiced ease. My bare toes curled at the chill of the tiled kitchen floor and I smiled at my older sister, Ariella, who was slumped over a cup of strong, black coffee.

'You're up early,' I said quietly, moving around the kitchen and preparing myself a bowl of cereal.

'Actually I'm up late.' She smiled sleepily. 'I couldn't stop painting.'

I grinned at her, shaking my head in amusement. I should have known. My sister was the artist of the family, and when the passion to paint took her it was more demanding than basic needs like sleep and food.

'Aren't you going to check your bowl of flour?'

I laughed quietly and shook my head. 'It won't tell me anything. It's just a silly family tradition. It's not even a real Midsummer's Eve superstition.'

'If you really believe that, then why do you still put a bowl of flour out with me every Midsummer?'

Ariella's question was innocent enough, and I couldn't find the right reply. Instead I shrugged. 'Curiosity?'

It was more of a question than an answer, and Ariella got to her feet and opened the door to the garden. Every year since we were small we'd followed a tradition our grandmother had told us about, and our mother had continued. On Midsummer's Eve you put bowl of flour outside. When you woke up in the morning the initials of your future husband would be written in the fine white powder.

It was actually a corruption of a different tradition, and was also meant to be linked with who you dreamt of that night. I blushed at the recollection of who had been in my dreams, but shook it away. It was meaningless anyway.

The sound of my mom carrying a suitcase down the stairs caught my attention, and I smiled at the immaculately presented woman before me. Mom was always away on business of some kind or the other, and the brief visits home were a treat. I was just disappointed that this one was already ending.

Ariella put the bowls down on the table just as our mother walked in, a gentle smile on her lips. 'Well, did it work this year?'

I picked up my bowl and frowned at the scribbles in the surface. 'Not really. I guess it's a bit hard to see initials in slug trails.'

'Oh, Ingrid. Don't say things like that. Isn't there room for a little magic in that head of yours?'

Ariella looked over my shoulder as I gave the bowl a second look. It was only when Mom took the bowl and turned it around by ninety degrees that I saw anything at all. When I did I almost dropped it on the floor in surprise.

'I tell you something. It's definitely not an "M",' Ariella said quietly. 'So much for Marcus.'

'It's not anything,' I replied with a laugh. 'Maybe you two are just seeing what you want to see.'

'I don't know. That looks like "C.F." to me.' Mother smiled quietly into her coffee cup as Ariella took up her own bowl and began to look for the initials of her future partner in life.

C.F. It was sickening how quickly a name sprang to match with those initials. Cornelius Fillmore.

With a sharp shake of my head I tipped the flour down the garbage disposal and picked up my cereal. There were plenty of other people with the initials "C.F." in the world. Besides, what did a dish of flour know anyway?

Idly I flicked on the T.V., watching the chaotic colors of cartoons flicker across the screen. The cartoon was about as mindless as they came, but it almost drowned out my mother's departing instructions to Ariella.

'- And don't let Ingrid spend too much time with this "Marcus" person. We don't even know who he is. Certainly don't leave them alone in a room together!'

'Ingrid will behave, Mom. Don't worry!'

I rolled my eyes and took another mouth full of cereal. School had been bad enough with the speculation among the Safety Patrol about Marcus and I absolutely rife. It was nothing in comparison to my family.

The sad thing was that no one knew the truth except me. Not even Marcus himself. I frowned at my breakfast, losing interest in it quickly. Marcus was attractive enough, and quite charming in his own way, but his reputation preceded him.

When Fillmore had told me what he knew I realized just how little anyone seemed to know about the extent of Marcus DeWhite's crimes.

I longed for the day when I could tell people the truth. No, I corrected myself, when I could tell Fillmore the truth. His confusion was too terrible to watch. I kept seeing the disbelief in his eyes. In my worst moments I even wondered if I saw jealousy or betrayal there, but that was just fantasy. Fillmore was a friend concerned for my safety and happiness, and I was desperate to put that worry at ease.

My thoughts kept running in circles until the day finally began. Mom kissed us and Dad goodbye as she hurried out to her taxi, jetting off on another meeting of international importance. Ariella cleared up the breakfast things while Dad got ready for work. Only when my sister and I had the house to ourselves did I bother getting dressed for the day.

The shower water was warm and soothing as I rubbed shampoo into my hair. It didn't take long for me to get clean and I dressed in jeans and a vest top before blasting my hair with a hair dryer. Jeans had felt strange after wearing a dress to school all year, but after a few weeks I'd gotten used to them. My Mom seemed to think they would be suitably off-putting to Marcus, and I had hoped for the same, but he seemed to appreciate the change.

At least I'd stuck with black. It was the only color I felt comfortable in anymore. Everyone seemed to think that made me gothic, morbid and macabre, but it was no different from someone always wearing pink. Only Fillmore didn't comment on my appearance, although that worked both ways. He never said I looked like a wreck, but he never said I looked good either.

I shoved my feet into my boots and picked up my book before creeping into my sister's room. Ariella was already half asleep, worn out by a night of artistry. Shaking her awake I made sure she was listening. 'I'm going to the park, okay? I'll be back for dinner.'

'You're going out for the whole day?' she asked in amazement, smothering a yawn. 'What about lunch?'

'I've got some money, and my cell phone,' I held it up for her to see.

'All right,' Ariella sighed. 'But promise me that I won't find out you were with Marcus.'

'I'm not seeing Marcus, so if anyone tells you I was, they're lying.' I grinned and waved goodbye.

Ariella just gave a sleepy smile in response, and I made my way downstairs and out of the front door.

The walk to the park was quick, and my bootlaces clattered on the sidewalk with each step. The sun was already quite high and I could feel its warmth on my back as I walked through the gate and onto the lush green grass. The new playground was full of young, laughing children, their mother standing around the periphery nattering to each other. That wasn't where I was going.

On a whim I took of my boots and padded through the grass barefoot. It was still wet from the sprinklers, and by the time I reached the old playground the bottoms of my jeans were soaking. Without pausing I walked through the small gate and onto the strangely springy tarmac. The swings and roundabouts here were abandoned, no longer maintained by the wardens. They weren't supposed to be used, but that didn't stop teenagers from hanging out here.

At night it was the haunt of law breakers. Underage drinkers and smokers looking for another shot of nicotine away from the prying eyes of their parents. During the day it was abandoned, a forgotten piece of desolate land in the middle of an oasis.

I sat on the swing, straddling the narrow plastic seat and opening my book to the right page. In the distance I could still hear the laughter of the children. A gentle breeze ruffled my hair and the pages of my book, creating a soft susurrus in the midsummer air.

I let the soothing words of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" wash over me, smiling at the aptness of my chosen reading material. I was so intent on the play that I didn't notice the passage of time until my neck began to cramp, and my stomach growled pitifully.

I would have kept on reading despite my discomfort, but the creak of the swing next to me made me look up and blink blearily at the young man next to me.

Fillmore was mirroring my position, straddling the swing and leaning his back on one of the chains. It was a bit precarious, but comfortable. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and his arms were crossed in front of his chest. On most people it looked defensive, but to me it just meant he was at ease.

He looked good, I had to admit that. When I'd started out at his partner he'd been a boy, but now he was approaching manhood at an alarming rate. He'd grown like a weed, topping my height easily. If I stood next to him now the top of my head only came up to his chin. Anza and Danny were the same. Karen and I had an ongoing bet on who would be the first to start shaving.

'Bad day?' he asked quietly by way of greeting, breaking into my reverie.

I sighed and looked down at the book. Fillmore always said he knew when I was unhappy by what I was reading. 'It's more boredom than anything,' I replied, closing the book as the wind ruffled the pages again, threatening to lose my place. 'I must be the only kid in X who misses school.'

Fillmore grinned and moved his leg slightly, letting his swing drift back and forward gently. 'Probably. How was New York?'

'Hot, but interesting. We went to the art galleries for Ariella, the shops for Mom and the museums for Dad.'

'And for you?'

'I just enjoyed being somewhere different.' For a moment there was no sound except the creak of the swings. I had no idea about Fillmore's plans for the summer, and I felt a stab of guilt that I hadn't asked before the end of school. Clearing my throat slightly I carried on: 'How about you, are you going anywhere this summer?'

Fillmore shook his head, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the warmth of the sun. 'Probably visiting family at some point, but mostly we're staying here.'

'Fillmore, are you okay?' I asked quietly, putting my book on the floor beside me and leaning forward to get a better look at his face. 'You look exhausted.'

His smile was faint, a shadow of the grins I was used to and I couldn't help the anxiety that welled inside me at his response. 'Everything will be fine.'

'You want to talk about it?'

Fillmore looked at me and I could see the debate in his eyes. With a sinking feeling I wondered if I was the cause of it. The wind swept a strand of hair across my face and I brushed it away irritably, trying to find my own answers in my partner's expression.

'No, it's all right, Ingrid. But thanks.'

'What are friends for?' I asked quietly, blushing a little as my stomach grumbled more fiercely, reminding me of the hours that had passed since breakfast.

'Come on,' Fillmore said, getting to his feet. 'I'll buy you a hot dog, unless you've gone vegetarian like Ariella?'

'Hardly.'

We ate our hotdogs in the sun, lying on the dry grass and talking about nothing in particular. I told him more about New York, about the backed up taxis and the oblivious Japanese tourists. It was more to fill the silence than anything, but Fillmore had always been easy to talk to.

'Before you joined the Safety Patrol, what kind of thing were you in trouble for?' I asked quietly, wondering if he minded the intrusion. Fillmore's record had always intrigued me, and although I could have done I'd never read his file. Somehow that felt wrong.

'All sorts. Providing cheats for exams, forging hall passes. The usual, really.' A smile crept into Fillmore's voice. 'It was wrong, but sometimes I'm glad it happened.'

'Why?' I asked, my voice lazy as the summer sun warmed my skin, making me lethargic.

'Because when you've been that low its even more of a challenge to change. It means I've got something to be proud of.'

I smiled at that, glad at the conviction in his voice. At the worst times, when Fillmore seemed at his most unhappy, I worried he'd turn his back on the Patrol, and on me. My worst nightmare was the pair of us facing each other as enemies, rather than friends. Hearing him say otherwise made my worries seem so stupid, and for once I was happy to be wrong.

'What about you?'

His question took me by surprise and I sat up to look at him. He was lying down with his eyes shut, and a tiny smile curving his lips.

'What do you mean?'

He opened one eye and fixed me with a "you can't fool me" look. 'Rumor has it that you weren't exactly a saint before you came to X.'

I bit my lip and nodded. 'True. I was bored. I was looking for something to entertain me. I just keep telling myself that it gave me invaluable skills, like picking locks.'

Fillmore laughed quietly and shook his head in disbelief. 'And here was me thinking you were too good to be rebellious.'

I didn't get the chance to answer. The shrill ring of my cell phone cut through the park and I grabbed it, hastily answering the call. I raised an eyebrow in surprise when the Principal answered my greeting.

'Miss Third, I'm sorry to bother you during summer vacation, but I need the Safety Patrol.'

'All of us?' I asked, fighting the butterflies in my stomach. I had my suspicions about why the Principal was calling. I just hadn't thought it would be this soon.

'Just you and Fillmore, Ms Third. I'll brief you when you get to the school. I've already contacted your parents by telephone and in writing, but you should call them just the same. I may need your assistance for some time.' I heard the Principal sigh on the other end of the phone, and could picture her rubbing a hand across her temple.

'We'll be there.'

'I take it Fillmore is with you?' The Principal's voice was perfectly neutral, but I still felt a hint of embarrassment that she'd guessed so accurately.

'Yes.'

'Hurry then, Miss Third. It's time we ended this for good.'

Fillmore was watching me curiously, and when he raised his eyebrow in question I got up and pulled him to his feet. 'The Principal needs us at the school. I guess crime doesn't take a vacation.'

I tossed my cell phone to him and began to walk towards the school, feeling the tension knot in my spine. I'd only just remembered to pick up my book, and now my fingers were pressed hard against the leather cover, taking solace in its familiar texture. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

Maybe by tonight it would all be over. I just hoped Fillmore could forgive me for being less than straight with him.

By the time we reached the Principal's office I'd told Ariella where I would be. With her usual calm demeanor she told me to be careful, and to call her if I needed a lift home. It always amazed me that any Safety Patrol officer's family seemed to take abnormal behavior in their stride. They understood it was part of the job, even if they didn't like it.

'Do you know what's going on?' Fillmore asked as we stopped outside the Principal's door. His dark eyes were intense, and I couldn't meet his gaze. Instead I murmured a vague reply and stepped into Folsom's domain.

The Principal was standing by her window, surveying her domain with the calculating eye of a professional. In my more childish moments I wondered if she lived in this office. I knew that, logically, she must have a home to go to, but she seemed to spend all hours in her inner sanctum, governing the school with practiced efficiency.

'Have a seat,' the Principal said, gesturing to the chairs lined up opposite her desk. Once we had sat down she turned back from the window and moved towards us, the tap of her high heels muffled on the plush carpet. 'For months now we have been suffering thefts. At first they were petty objects, barely worth our attention. As time has passed the thefts have become more daring, and more dangerous.'

'Why weren't we told about it, before?' Fillmore demanded, frowning at his lack of knowledge about the crimes.

'The thefts have always occurred at night, strictly in the domain of the adult security patrols, but the security guards have failed. The police show little interest in protecting school property, and it seems that you two are the next best thing. In fact, Miss Third has already been working solo on this case for over a month.'

I tried not to flinch as Fillmore looked my way. The expression on his face was one of hurt, and I knew he was wondering how his most trusted friend could keep something so secret from him. Oblivious to the mute communication between us the Principal carried on.

'At my request Miss Third has been surveying the main suspect in this case, getting close enough to find out information that may be useful to us. I loathe the use of underhand tactics, but I was left with little choice.' Folsom grimaced and I took a deep breath, knowing how much the woman had agonized over her decision. In the end it was just as I had told Fillmore on the last day of term. It was my choice.

'Marcus,' Fillmore muttered quietly, not taking his eyes off of me. I nodded once, keeping my eyes averted. I didn't know whether to be sorry or angry. I had wanted to involve Fillmore and had done everything possible to stop him worrying, but in the end it had been impossible without putting my cover at risk. I had to get close to Marcus, and he was jealous enough of my time spent with the male members of the Safety Patrol.

The worst thing was that I knew if Folsom had come to Fillmore with a similar idea he would have felt obligated t do his duty, just as I had. Somehow I doubted that he'd see it that way.

'Marcus DeWhite is our main suspect in this case, and Ingrid has almost gathered enough evidence. What we need - what I need from you two is for you to catch him in the act. He strikes on a nightly basis, and always gets in and away unnoticed. I want to know how he's doing it, and I want him stopped. We have until tonight at midnight. After that he technically graduates from this school and passes from our jurisdiction. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Ma'am,' we murmured in quiet unison.

'Good. I look forward to seeing results.'

It was a clear dismissal, and Fillmore strode out of the door ahead of me, every muscle in his frame tense. Late night stakeouts were rare, but not unheard of in the Safety Patrol. Last year Tehama and Anza hadn't got home until gone midnight when tracing a hacker. Either way it was not a prospect I relished. If nothing else I was dreading the look on Marcus' face when he found out he'd been betrayed.

When we reached the sanctuary of the office I reached into my desk and pulled the file containing the details of the case out of the drawer. Fillmore hadn't said a word, and when I looked up I found he was watching me with a distant, emotionless gaze.

'You lied to us.'

I cringed at the words, wishing I could deny the charges he was laying at my door. 'I didn't have much choice. Besides I didn't tell an all out lie. I just didn't give you all the details.'

Fillmore shook his head and stood up, taking the file from my hands. 'You should really consider a career in acting, Ingrid. You even had me fooled into thinking that you cared for him. I almost feel sorry for DeWhite.'

'Fillmore, it wasn't like that.' My voice fell to a strained whisper. 'I didn't lead him on, but I didn't turn him away either.'

My partner shook his head, staring at the file in his hands unseeingly. 'I just didn't think you were capable of using someone's feelings like that.'

Quickly I looked at my desk, fighting against the emotion inside me. There was no way I was going to let him see me cry. 'It had to be done. Don't you see that?' I asked quietly. 'If Folsom had asked something similar of you, you would have done it. It's part of the job.'

'No it's not, Ingrid. You could have said no. You could have said that you'd get the evidence the old fashioned way. Didn't you think about how this could backfire? As soon as DeWhite finds out that the girl he thinks he likes has done this to him, don't you know what his reaction will be? Revenge. A guy like DeWhite won't stand for this.'

'You sound like you're speaking from experience,' I said softly, jumping slightly when Fillmore pitched the file onto the table with a loud 'slap'. His face was unreadable, and for one breathless moment I wondered who the young man in front of me really was. I couldn't see my best friend in his cool expression. All I could see was anger.

'I can use my imagination, Ingrid. If someone I cared for and trusted betrayed me, they'd be my enemy.'

I didn't - couldn't - reply. All my protests died on my lips as Fillmore sat at his desk and began reading the file, blocking me out of his world. With a shake of my head I got to my feet and grabbed my book, desperate to find an island of calm. I didn't need to re-read the reports. I'd gone over them enough times late at night, trying to find a different interpretation to the evidence. The truth, the words which I couldn't tell Fillmore, was that it wasn't as simple as I'd made out. The agreement with Folsom was that I'd be Marcus' Calculus tutor. Nothing more. I'd been chosen for being level-headed and unlikely to be swayed by DeWhite's charm.

It just goes to show how wrong people can be.

As the facts mounted up I'd despaired, desperate for a way to clear Marcus' name. As much as I hated to admit it I'd become emotionally involved.

The realization had hardened my resolve. Telling Folsom of what I'd found out about Marcus was my punishment to myself for being so foolish. I had got to close to him, and started letting my feelings cloud my judgment. That should never happen.

Yet now Fillmore's anger was more of a punishment that anything I could have imagined.

Walking out of the office I strode to my locker and took several deep, calming breaths. Emotion wasn't a factor in justice. It had no place in an investigation. I had to remember that. Slumping back against the metal door I sank to the floor, putting my forehead on my knees. The book hung limply from my fingertips, and I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I stayed like that for what felt like hours, trying to control the rising chaos of my thoughts. Gradually I managed to push the whirl of confusion away. The situation was entirely DeWhite's fault. He'd chosen to turn to theft, and if he got caught - that was his problem.

As for Fillmore, I just had to hope that he'd realize that I wasn't the cold-hearted witch he thought I was. If all else failed I'd tell him the truth, although I winced at the thought of his reaction to the fact that I'd actually fallen for a suspect.

When I walked back into the office Fillmore was waiting for me, leaning against my desk as he read through a page of the report. His face was expressionless, and I knew that he was putting his emotions aside for later. There was a case to solve; everything else could wait. I had to do the same.

'He comes in through the janitor's entrance,' I said quietly, 'and probably leaves the same way. We're going to want to catch him on the way out.'

'Why not on the way in?' Fillmore asked, nodding as I responded.

'We need concrete evidence. So far it's just speculation and circumstantial facts. We'll have to catch him with something he's stolen, and since his targets are unpredictable...' I trailed off, holding my hand out for the report and double checking the facts. 'So far I've not found anything to suggest a pattern. If you ask me he's doing it for kicks.'

Fillmore looked at me, his eyes measuring me steadily. 'Is your stake-out gear here?'

'Of course.'

'Good. Come on, we need to check the school over.'

The rest of the day passed in pained silence. Fillmore and I rarely spoke unless it was to comment on potential escape routes or preparations for the stake-out ahead. When dusk finally fell and the adult security guards began their rounds we returned to the office and got ready.

Wordlessly I took the grey clothes from the supply locker and closed the door to Vallejo's office, changing swiftly. Shades of grey were a far more successful camouflage in a school sporadically lit. Black stood out unless it was total darkness, something that we were unlikely to come across in X.

When I emerged Fillmore handed me a torch, and I checked my radio was turned off before clipping it to my waste. A stealthy situation such as this couldn't be ruined by a random burst of static. Our Safety Patrol sashes were left behind, discarded ribbons in the encroaching darkness. They'd give away our position far too easily. 'You ready?'

'Of course.'

'Remember, if you corner him don't go in alone,' Fillmore warned me, waiting for my agreement.

'I'll wait for you, as long as you do the same for me.'

His reply was a non-committal grunt as we left the office and moved down the corridors of X. The school was eerily quiet, and I couldn't help but feel my nerves stretch taught as we approached the janitor's entrance. It led out to a yard of sorts, a no-man's land of broken cleaning utensils and abandoned furniture. Normally it would have been locked, but it hadn't taken me long to find the crowbar marks around the door's frame. The mechanism had been compromised weeks ago.

Our footfalls made no sound as we moved with practiced skill. There was an art to it that allowed speed and silence all at once. Fillmore and I had perfected it as much as we could, but it was an exhausting process. I was aware of every shadow and flicker of light, every subtle sound and movement. Innocent silhouettes were twisted into more sinister objects by my imagination, and as Fillmore gave the signal to split up I took a deep breath.

Fear had no place in a stake-out.

The two classrooms closest to the Janitor's door were unoccupied, the desks and chairs silent and the chalkboard unmarked. Even the class pets were absent, taken home by caring pupils. I shut the door behind me and stood to the side, waiting for the tell-tale silhouette of an intruder.

Fillmore was further up the hall, and by the time he saw anything I would already be on the move. We would follow the perpetrator at a distance until they had stolen what they were looking for, and then take them down.

My breath caught in my throat as the sound of a door opening reached my ears. I could hear the faint patter of footsteps, nothing to the untrained ear, and saw the shadow of a young man look over its shoulder before continuing on. It was a painful process of hurry up and wait. I had to stay put until I was sure the target was out of hearing range. If I opened the door straight away my cover would be blown.

After twenty thundering heartbeats I made my move, checking each side of the door for a skulking shadow before slipping out into the hallway. Walking in a half crouch I kept to the shadows, and kept my eyes open. Whoever I was following turned the corner ahead of me and vanished out of sight.

Distantly I heard Fillmore open the door I had just passed, and nodded at him as he moved out to join me. Mutely I pointed to the right and led the way, keeping back from the perpetrator just enough to stay hidden.

After several minutes of breathless, silent pursuit I halted at a junction and ducked back into the shadows, watching as shadowy figure stopped at the teacher's lounge and produced a paperclip. I watched, knowing each of his movements as though I were doing it myself.

He unraveled the wire and inserted it into the lock, forcing the tumblers to perform their opening dance. With a subtle click the lock was overcome. He hesitated for a moment, and I felt Fillmore's hand on my back as he steadied himself, trying to get a better look at whoever our thief was.

Fillmore's breath tickled the back of my neck and I shivered slightly as my skin tingled in response. 'Can you see who it is?' Fillmore whispered, his voice no more than a breeze on the air. Mutely I shook my head, unconsciously leaning towards his warmth. At moments like this it was almost impossible to keep my mind on the job.

Suddenly the thief turned to look towards us. I caught the gasp on my lips, not daring to let it go further as I froze. He hadn't seen us, he couldn't have, but there was no doubt about the identity of our thief. I had hoped that I was wrong somehow, but when I saw Marcus' face my heart lurched. There was no joy in being right this time.

Finally Marcus turned away and slipped into the teacher's lounge, letting the door swing shut behind him. 'Come on, that room's not got any other exits. We can catch him in the act.'

'Wait, Fillmore. Unless we catch him stealing something we can only book him on trespass and breaking and entering. That's not enough. Wait until he comes out, and then we'll get him.' I nodded to myself, pushing any doubts aside. My reasoning was sound and even Fillmore could see that, but even as I said it I wondered what my true motivation was. I didn't want Marcus to get away, did I?

'He'll run,' Fillmore warned me.

I looked over my shoulder, meeting his gaze with my own for the first time in hours. 'Then we'll chase him. It's what we do best.'

The creak of the door alerted us to our quarry, and in a flash I saw that he had reached my expectations. In his hands was a small book, one I recognized easily. It was the list of confiscated items. The book itself wasn't worth much, but the information inside it could be worth a lot to the right person.

'Ready?' Fillmore whispered, his frame so close to my body that I could feel him tensing in preparation for the chase.

'Ready,' I confirmed, smiling despite myself as I shouted. 'Stop! Safety Patrol!'

Marcus' instinct was predictable, but his panic was not. He whirled to face us, his featured showing every emotion clearly in the split-second before he took flight. His footsteps rang out in the passageway, and ours thundered after him, all pretense of stealth lost.

Fillmore's radio hissed to life as he asked the adult security guards to block the exits. It wouldn't cover every way out of the school, but it would help. Marcus must have heard it because his swearing reached my ears as I ran. He was spooked, and began taking corners at random, no doubt hoping that he could lose us.

On instinct Fillmore peeled off, taking a different path as I stayed on DeWhite's trail, not letting him out of my sight. I stretched my stride out further, narrowing my eyes in the gloom as I skidded around a corner and realized what lay ahead. The gymnasium. X middle school had excellent sports facilities, including a large pool, and I knew that if he ran in there he would be cornered.

Switching tactics I began to herd him, making sure he knew that I was right behind him so that his instinct would be to run the shortest possible route to freedom. Fillmore emerged off to the left, blocking another possible escape route and leaving Marcus with only one place to go.

It was only as he skidded to a halt at the side of the pool that he realized his mistake, and the doors closed behind him. He whirled to face us, his forehead beaded with sweat and his hair slick against his head. The dim lights reflected off the water, sending dancing patterns across the walls. The smell of chlorine was sharp, and I wrinkled my nose for a moment as he began to back towards the edge of the pool, following the dappled tiles to try and put the large expanse of water between us and him.

Instinctively I went one way while Fillmore went the other, intent on cutting him off.

'It's over, Marcus,' Fillmore called out, his voice echoing strangely in the large room. 'Give yourself up.'

'No way,' Marcus grinned, his face twisting in strange joy. 'If I can hold you off for ten more minutes I'm out of your jurisdiction.

I glanced at the clock, realizing he was right. Soon enough he would have graduated and we'd be powerless to stop him walking free. Quickening my pace I moved around the corner of the pool, chasing him towards Fillmore. 'Why did you do it?' I asked. 'Why bother wasting your time with this?'

'The challenge. You know what it's like, Ingrid, to be bored. I thought you of all people would understand.'

'There are other things you can do for entertainment.' I watched Fillmore approach Marcus, our paces echoing one another perfectly as we closed in. 'You don't have to break the law.'

'So that's why you sold me out?' Marcus demanded, his attention now solely focused on me. 'I thought you were special. I thought you'd care enough to let me go. Turns out you were just there to track me down, weren't you?'

I didn't reply. I couldn't, not when Fillmore was so close. A few more paces and we could arrest him.

In a flash of movement Marcus lunged for me, his hands outstretched to grab me as he ran. As swiftly as I could I twisted away, wincing as he slipped on a patch of water. He went down hard, and stayed down.

Quickly I grabbed hold of him, subduing him easily as his groaned on the cool tiles that surrounded the pool.

'You all right?' Fillmore asked as he knelt beside me, scowling when Marcus complained about his head. 'I wasn't talking to you. Ingrid, are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Fillmore.'

I stayed quiet as Fillmore got to his feet and radioed the security guards, telling them where we were. Only Marcus' rasping question filled the quiet. 'You never cared for me, did you?'

'I never said that.' I shifted uncomfortably, hoping Fillmore couldn't hear me.

'Then why didn't you warn me? If you gave a damn, why didn't you tell me this was going down tonight?'

'I didn't know, and even if I did I wouldn't have warned you. That's not who I am.' I could feel my temper rising as Marcus continued to look at me, his eyes full of anger. 'What did you expect? Did you think that if you got someone from the Safety Patrol to like you, you wouldn't have to worry about being arrested?'

Marcus didn't answer, but he didn't have to. In a flash of clarity I realized that he'd used me as much as I'd used him. Maybe that wasn't all it was about, but both of us had started off with ulterior motives. Any feelings that had developed in the duration were secondary. In a way it was relieving to know that he was no more broken-hearted than I was, but it didn't stop the tiny spasm of regret for what might have been.

'Answer me this, Miss Third. Could you ever love a thief?' Marcus' lips twisted into a small smile as his eyes flickered to something behind me.

I thought for a moment before giving a shrug. 'Maybe. It would have to be someone remarkable to make me forget about justice.'

'Apparently love can do that to someone.' This time the anger had faded, and the grin he gave me was completely charming as the security guards hurried in to take him away. 'See you in high school, Ingrid.'

His voice was thick with suggestion and I closed my eyes as he walked away, breathing out a sigh before I whispered, 'Not if I see you first.'

When the security guards were finally gone and had taken Marcus with them I sat down at the edge of the pool with a sigh. After a moment's thought I took of my boots and socks before rolling the boring grey pants up to the knee and sinking my feet into the cool blue water.

At first the chill sent goosebumps over me, but gradually I got used to it. With a tiny sigh Fillmore sat down next to me mimicking my movements before he spoke.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Tell you what?' I braced myself, knowing that playing dumb would only waste my time. He must have overheard me talking to Marcus.

'That you'd gotten emotionally involved with him?'

I sighed, shooting an irritated glance at my partner, but he was staring at the surface of the water, oblivious to my annoyance. 'Because I didn't think it was relevant.' I must have said it with spite, because Fillmore lifted his head up and raised an eyebrow at me.

'Ingrid, you can't pretend that you believe that. Of course it's relevant. It could interfere with your judgment, and completely ruin our case.' His voice softened a little and he added, 'It also explains why you acted the way you did. It wasn't fake; it was real.'

'So what if it was real? The end result is the same. The bad guy gets justice, and I get to go home.' I knew I was sounding petulant now, and hated myself for it. Fillmore just seemed to be rubbing salt in the wounds, which wasn't helping my attitude.

'Ingrid - I'm sorry for earlier. I thought you'd led him on and hung him out to dry.' Fillmore cleared his throat and scowled at the water again. 'I didn't want to think you were that kind of girl.'

'You know what really bothers me? 'I asked, moving my left foot in an idle circle. 'I thought about it.'

'About what?'

'Letting him go, or tipping him off or something. Does that make me a bad officer?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because you only thought about it, Ingrid. You didn't do it.' He looked at me for a long moment. 'So, am I forgiven?'

I bit my lip, chasing the smile from my face as I faked a thoughtful expression. Viper-quick I reached out and shoved him, hard, laughing as he lost his balance and fell in the pool with a splash. Gasping for breath I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes as he surfaced, standing in the water that only came up to his shoulders.

Grinning evilly he grabbed my ankle.

'Fillmore, what are you - No! No I forgive you! I forgive you!' With a quick yank he dunked me under the water, taking his revenge swiftly and completely.

'You're horrible,' I grumbled, treading water and moving into a slightly more shallow part of the pool.

'Me?' he laughed, sending a splash of water in my direction. 'Oh no. You pushed me in first. You're the horrible one.'

The water-fight escalated quickly, our laughter ringing out across the pool as the strife of the day was forgotten in our moment of playfulness.

Someone cleared their throat, making me turn my head. The tap of high heels on tile made me wince inwardly, and I wondered what the Principal must have been thinking about her two best Safety Patrol officers playing like children in the pool. I glanced over at Fillmore, noticing how his t-shirt was clinging to his shoulders, and knew that my clothes would be just as snug fitting once I got out of the water. I blushed at the thought and crossed my arms self-consciously over my breasts.

Principal Folsom surveyed the two of us, one eyebrow raised as the corner of her mouth quirked into a rare smile. 'You did good,' she said, her strong voice loud in the pool house. 'I wasn't sure even you two could pull this one off. Now, do me one more favor?'

'Yes Ma'am?' Fillmore and I asked in well-practiced unison.

'Dry off and get a lift home. The pool's closed.'

She walked away with a wry chuckle to herself, leaving Fillmore and I to share a grin as we headed for the side and climbed out. Water sluiced off the pair of us as we picked up our socks and shoes, and I spent most of the damp walk back to the Safety Patrol office studiously ignoring Fillmore's tempting appearance, and trying not to think how angry the janitor would be at the trails of water we'd left through the school.

'Fillmore, can you phone Ariella for me?' I asked as we got to the office and opened the door. 'She'll probably give you a ride home, too.'

'Cool.' He caught the towel I threw in his direction before I disappeared into Vallejo's office to dry off and get changed. My wet clothes peeled off easily, leaving me in very damp underwear. For a moment I considered my options, but decided I'd have to stick with the wet underclothes.

Hastily pulling on my black jeans and top I scrubbed at my hair ineffectually, trying not to let my mind wander. There had been nothing but innocent play in my mind when I'd pushed Fillmore in the pool, but seeing him in a wet t-shirt had pushed my mind onto another, more grown-up train of thought.

There were some thoughts I'd made myself swear never to have about Fillmore. In the beginning it had been easier, but now things were more complicated. I pinned the blame on raging hormones, but they were pretty hard to ignore, and it was getting worse all the time.

A gentle tap at Vallejo's office door broke into my reverie, and when I answered Fillmore poked his head around. 'Ariella's on her way. She'll be here in about ten minutes.'

By the time Fillmore and I had collected everything together and got to the school gate Ariella was waiting in her beat up Ford. It was a short drive to Fillmore's house, and I studiously avoided my older sister's glances. She'd notice my wet hair, and the wet towel Fillmore was still carrying. I could practically hear the cogs turning in her head.

When we arrived at Fillmore's the lights were still on, and I thought I heard a faint sigh escape his lips. He hesitated, as he reached for the door handle before casting a grin over his shoulder. 'Hey, Ingrid. Will you be in the park tomorrow?'

'Probably.'

'All right, I'll see you there. Thanks for the lift, Ariella!'

'See you, Fillmore,' we both said in unison, the grin on my face staying even as we pulled away.

As Ariella drove away I checked over my shoulder, waving goodbye as he stepped into the shelter of his home.

Ariella met my eyes in the rear view mirror, a crooked smile on her lips. 'No more Marcus?' she asked innocently, arching an eyebrow.

'Definitely no more Marcus,' I laughed, settling back in my seat. All I had was one long summer, one that would be all the better for sharing it with Fillmore.

**End**


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